


The World Saved

by Symbio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam (Voltron) Lives, Adam/Shiro (Voltron) Reunion, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Not Voltron: Legendary Defender Season/Series 07 Compliant, Not Voltron: Legendary Defender Season/Series 08 Compliant, So much kissing, aftermath of war, shiro loves his boyfriend, we ignore canon in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symbio/pseuds/Symbio
Summary: The war is over and it's time for mourning and rebuilding, but not all assumed dead were lost. When a group of survivors is found, Shiro allows himself hope that Adam is among them.Basically: Shiro and Adam reunion fluff





	The World Saved

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in August and figured I might as well post it here now. It's written for a kiss prompt thing: "a kiss because the world is saved." It's short and sweet and I hope you enjoy it :)

"Captain Shirogane your presence has been requested in the briefing room," a feminine voice broke Shiro from the trance he was in. He blinked a few times before slowly turning to face its source.

He was stood by the cemetery where he could oft be found in the days after the world was saved. It had been months now since that day and the sting of loss was no softer. The cemetery stretched out toward the edge of his vision, the graves adorned with whatever could be found to do the job.

Shiro had seen plenty of the funerals and he knew well the look of grief etched into the faces of all those around him. Nobody had been spared from that suffering, there were lost friends, brothers, nephews, grandmothers, cousins, parents. Anyone who walked the complex knew somebody who had fallen in those fights to save their home. He had taken part in several of the funerals, joining five others to carry the coffins or meeting at the top of the cliff to scatter ashes of the fallen.

Unlike many of the others, Shiro had already lost the most important person to him. He had lost him before stepping off the Earth to go on that fateful mission and the world had lost him while Shiro was busy on the other side of the universe. There had been no time to mourn before the battles that came, they were too busy fighting for their lives against Sendak and then Haggar. But now the world was saved and the survivors were left to rebuild and to mourn.

Around his wrist he wore a pink braided cord—his only article not part of uniform—an Altean symbol of mourning. The months had given him time to cope but done nothing to lessen the pain of loss.

Those first few weeks were the funerals. The weeks and the months after that were dedicated to clearing out the work camps the Galra had set up and helping those people resettle themselves into life. They were rebuilding the world, and as one of those absolutely essential to saving it, he was looked to as a leader.

There was very little time outside of missions and meetings and it was well known that Shiro chose to be alone during his free time. To be interrupted during a visit to the cemetery was practically unheard of.

"Is there some sort of emergency?" Shiro asked the cadet.

"I'm not sure sir," she told him. "They told me to send for you right away, your presence is required."

Shiro nodded and slowly turned away from the graves and toward the main building a bit off in the distance. "I'll head there straight away, thank you for relaying the message." The cadet nodded back and headed off in another direction.

He took a deep breath and started heading toward the briefing room. He ran through potential scenarios in his head and determined it had to be about the progress of repairs. Many of their ships had been all but destroyed and progress had hit a major snag due to issues in obtaining supplies.

Gravel crunched under foot as he walked, the rubble around the Garrison had been one of the first things cleaned up, but smaller pieces of broken rock and glass remained. He hesitated for a second before stepping into the building and turning toward where he was headed.

Shiro hardly made it past the first door in the hallway before being stopped by Iverson. "A word Shirogane," Iverson gestured for him to step into his office.

He obliged and shut the door behind him when gestured to do so. "What is this about Iverson?" Shiro asked, the formalities between the two of them had long since been dropped. "If it's about helping with the supply routes we already have Paladins volunteering their lions on a rotating schedule. I looked over the figures with Commander Holt the other day, he and Coran are preparing a report on how best to repurpose the Galra structures for use in reconstruction."

"That's great Shirogane, but that's not why I called you here today, have a seat," Iverson pointed to a chair and took his own seat across the desk. "This is more of a personal matter."

Shiro took the chair and sat stiffly, his mind instantly jumping to several worst case scenarios as it was prone to do. "Yes?"

Iverson tapped his fingers on the desk and looked off into the distance as if he was trying to find the best way to deliver his news. "You've been to the memorial for those who fell in the first wave of the attack," he stated.

Shiro waited for him to continue but the silence stretched uncomfortably. "Yes, I go every day," he nodded.

"Most of their bodies were never recovered," Iverson told him. "Those that were, were buried in a mass grave that was marked with headstones later, we simply didn't have the time to give them each a proper funeral," he paused again. "We also didn't have the time to search for survivors. Not with the whole world in danger."

Shiro nodded in understanding. "So what are you saying?"

"We were wrong, they didn't all die," Iverson said. "One of the land scout teams came across a settlement two days ago, it was still heavily fortified with sentries that didn't get deactivated when the Galra fell. The scouts recognized some of the survivors as Garrison pilots from the first wave. They'll be ready for transport tomorrow."

Shiro's grip on his seat steadily tightened as he listened. Hope was rising in his chest and he did his best to squash it down until he knew for sure. "Is-is he there?" He dared ask, his voice wavering.

"The commutations system was not strong enough for the scout team to relay the identities of those found," Iverson shook his head. "We can ask for names once the convoy gets closer to the Garrison, but for now all we can do is wait."

"I'm going," Shiro stood up. "I need to see for myself. Send me the coordinates."

"There isn't a ship for you to use," Iverson said. "I know how much this means to you, but we simply don't have the means to get you there before they make their way back."

"Then I'll take the Black Lion, she should still respond to me," he was already halfway out the door. "Don't try to stop me Iverson."

"I won't," Iverson had stood up as well and was smiling at him. "You might be wanting this though," he jingled a set of keys and tossed them to Shiro who caught them without reacting. "Your apartment from before Kerberos is cleared for your residency again, we no longer need it for other purposes."

Shiro slid the keys into his pocket. "Thank you."

"Take care of him Shirogane," Iverson waved him out of the room. "I'll send the coordinates to the lion."

It took all his self control not to run all the way to the Black Lion. He stopped by where Team Voltron spent much of their time and left a quick note explaining that he was taking the lion and then he was off to where it was landed.

As if she had sensed him coming—she had—Black already had her jaw open when he got there. He took his seat and put his hands on the controls. "Alright girl, let's do this," the coordinates appeared onscreen as he took off.

The trip took a matter of minutes, traveling at a breakneck speed that felt like nothing. He found a clear spot behind the scout vehicles and landed, drawing the attention of all those gathered nearby.

"It's Keith! The Black Paladin of Voltron!" He could hear shouts of joy and surprise coming through the cockpit as he made his way out.

"Wait, Captain Shirogane?" He was greeted by the perplexed leader of the scouting mission. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you've recovered soldiers who were presumed dead in the first wave of attack," Shiro said. "I've come to expedite their transportation back to the Garrison so they can receive proper medical attention. Can you direct those most in need to the lion?"

He did not mention his real reason for coming even though his body was humming with the uncertainty of what he might find. The sweet taste of hope was on the tip of his tongue and soon, very soon, he might know it completely.

"Yes sir," the scout saluted and immediately began shouting out orders to the others, redirecting a group of survivors to the Black Lion.

Shiro couldn't bring himself to look as the injured and malnourished survivors were brought into the hangar of the lion. He helped them up the steps and carried the stretchers of those who couldn't move without help, but he couldn't look at their faces. Many of them spoke to him, but he didn't hear their words. His thoughts were occupied with one person only, and the seed of hope hurt too much to even look for him.

It took three trips before all the survivors had been successfully transported. By the end of the day, he still had no idea whether or not Adam was alive and safe. He took dinner in his room and set about straightening up his old apartment.

Shiro's building was in a block that had survived the attacks relatively unscathed and until recently had been used to house the survivors from nearby work camps. Reconstruction efforts had been successful enough that the need for Garrison housing was dwindling.

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest when he stepped inside. Even after all the years he had been gone, the place was as intimately familiar as it would be had he left only a day ago. There was a fine layer of dust coating most surfaces and the air held the sharp scent of the cleaners used in adjacent apartments, but this was his home.

Shiro walked through the living room that was devoid of all decoration. He headed straight to the storage closet and opened it to find the packed up boxes of his and Adams things, it was all he could do not to cry when the first item his eyes landed on was a photo of the two of them grinning at each other.

Box by box, he unpacked all their things, staring at each item for several moments before sorting it aside. He stayed up for hours until everything was back where it belonged and the apartment smelled like home again.

Shiro walked from room to room, running his hand over every surface, hoping to find the story of what had happened while he was gone. There was nothing to be found but dust, yet he was up well past midnight hunting anyway.

When the sky showed the first hint of morning, he made his way to his old bed, standing by its side for longer than he would care to admit before he was able to climb up onto it. Despite the years, the bed still dipped in the same way it always had. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing until he managed to fall asleep.

Morning came quickly and he was loathe to get up and change into his uniform, but he did so anyway just as he always did. He had discovered that the apartment was fully stocked with food during his exploring during the night. So much had been destroyed in the attacks, so finding out that his coffeepot in his apartment still worked was quite a surprise. It seemed that this place had gone untouched by time and war; it was a haven amongst the outside chaos.

Shiro used his prosthetic to get the sugar without moving across the room and he stirred a few spoonfuls into his cup of coffee. He sat in the seat he had last seen Adam in and held his mug with both hands, dreading when the sun would climb higher into the sky and signal the start of what was sure to be a busy day. He idly sipped from his mug, his thoughts wandering to what he would say in his meeting that afternoon.

There were still large construction projects that needed to get underway, Galra structures to disassemble, and people to relocate. Cleaning up the aftermath of the attacks was a lot of work.

He was too lost in his thoughts to notice the soft knock on his door the first time it sounded. He didn't notice it the second time either. It was the third time when the nervous knock grew louder that it finally pulled him from his thinking.

Shiro set his mug down and walked over to the door. It was early and as far as he was aware, only Iverson knew he was staying in his apartment again. His footsteps echoed as he walked through the empty apartment, the silence almost physical in presence. He turned the lock slowly and heard its thud when it stopped moving. Then he opened the door.

He didn't have time to see who was outside of it before he was engulfed in a hug and could hear the sound of crying in his ear. It took less than a second for his body to recognize the embrace and return it fiercely.

They stood half in the apartment half in the hallway until one of them realized that and stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. They held onto each other as if it were as necessary to life as breathing. Shiro couldn't let go even if he wanted to.

It took him several minutes to register that he was hearing his own voice. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he repeated again and again.

When they finally pulled apart he took a long look at him through his teary eyes. His hair was longer and his skin a few shades lighter, his glasses were cracked and glued together in a few places, he had scars across the right side of his face and a brace on his right leg.

Shiro brought a shaking hand up to his face and caressed it. "Adam," he breathed. "You're alive."

Adam smiled. It was the same smile he had fallen in love with years ago, even the war couldn't have changed his smile. "Takashi. Takashi," he said the name like a prayer.

"Th-they told me you were dead," Shiro kept his hand on his cheek, needing the contact to tell himself this was real. "You have a headstone and a memorial. Iverson told me yesterday about the camp you were held at, I went to clear it but when I got there I was so scared you wouldn't be there that I couldn't look at anybody. But you're alive."

"I'm alive," Adam nodded, lifting his own hand up to Shiro's face. "My comm system went down when my plane was hit, the seat ejected so I got out fine except for a broken leg," he gestured to the leg with the brace on it. "It was absolute carnage, I saw firsthand how bad it was before I was taken to the prison camp."

"You're alive," Shiro repeated, unable to say anything else. He had spent so many days by his headstone or the memorial and now he was finding out that he hadn't lost him.

"You helped me into the Black Lion yesterday," Adam told him. "I couldn't believe it was you. You're so different Takashi. Your hair, your arm," he let go long enough to wave a hand through the empty space between his shoulder and his prosthetic.

Shiro couldn't help but laugh at the action. "Adam. I missed you so much, I'm so sorry for not listening to you. None of this would have ever happened had I listened to you."

"Takashi no," Adam shook his head. "I was wrong to leave you like that."

"No Adam, I'm in the wrong," Shiro insisted. "I was dying and selfish. I didn't care that you were willing to spend the rest of my life taking care of me. I saw a record I hadn't broken and I had to go for it. I had to touch the stars one last time."

"And you did," Adam laughed through the tears that had sprung to his eyes again. "But what do you mean 'was?' Are you not dying anymore?"

Shiro shook his head. "I'm not. My disease is gone, it's a long story I don't want to get into now, but know that I have a long life ahead of me."

"Takashi," Adam's voice cracked. "That's amazing, there's so much you can do now."

"I'm looking forward to retirement. A nice country home with a few cats sounds awfully appealing to me," Shiro chuckled. "But for now I have to help rebuild the world. Are you with me?"

"You are my world Takashi," Adam leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm always with you."

Shiro moved his hand to the back of Adam's neck. "I love you," he said, the words truer than anything he had ever spoken. "I never stopped loving you. I thought of you every day I was gone."

"I love you too," Adam echoed. "You did so much more than I could have imagined. You saved the world."

Shiro pulled him forward into a kiss, a real kiss. Adam's hands came up and tangled in his hair, his grip tight yet reassuring.

They fit together as well as they ever need, instinctively leaning into each and holding each other up. Even after all those years and battles, they still knew each other. They kissed by the doorway for what felt like hours. Then they took a seat and kissed on the couch, unable to get enough of each other. Then they moved to the bedroom and kissed there, relearning each other as they relearned themselves.

The world was saved, Adam was alive.

Shiro never made it to his afternoon meeting.

**Author's Note:**

> This may eventually be incorporated into a larger fic, but for now it's a stand alone. I hope you liked it, I had a lot of fun writing it. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at transguykeith


End file.
